


A Century

by prosperina_rolfe



Category: Fairy Tales & Related Fandoms, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Sleeping Beauty (Fairy Tale)
Genre: Adopted Children, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Castles, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Fairy Tale Retellings, Fluff and Angst, London, Medieval, Medieval Britain, Political Alliances, Precocious Child, Royalty, Slow Burn, Waltzing, arrogant victorian narrator, black market spinning wheels, did burning all the spinning wheels damage their economy?, medieval nobles, parents gave firstborn child to a witch, peasant rebellion, who ruled the kingdom while the king slept?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-09
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-07-09 05:00:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19882039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prosperina_rolfe/pseuds/prosperina_rolfe
Summary: The Kingdom of Cathal, 1294: In a reckless attempt to save Hermione's ailing mother, her parents give their firstborn daughter to a witch: the disgrace of wizarding society, Andromeda Black.Years later, Andromeda is forced by her sister to curse the palace to sleep for a hundred years, entangling Hermione in a ruthless fight for the throne between the most powerful wizarding families in the kingdom: the Weasleys and the Malfoys.Working to undermine the Malfoys for the good of the kingdom, Hermione soon learns that nowhere is safe, and she must learn to behave like the wizarding elite, or risk discovery by their arrogant, distrustful heir.Dramione Medieval/Historical AU.





	1. Bridging the Castle

**Author's Note:**

> Everything belongs to JK Rowling.
> 
> Enjoy!

The history of the Kingdom of Cathal has been muddied by the brown waters of time, like a history book bleached blank as it lies under constant sunlight. It has evolved into a mere fairytale, chock full of peasant-like inaccuracies that scholars, like you and I, might regard with distaste. 

I will now make clear that I, as a historian on whom even Queen Victoria herself has bestowed high praise, have taken the liberty of compounding several abridged accounts of the history of Cathal, having translated them into modern English for a less scholarly readership. 

The Kingdom of Cathal was so named when invaders from Normandy came to the coast of England and, having captured and bound a gaggle of peasants, demanded them to reveal the name of their kingdom. They asked this in their native language, French, while gesturing towards the large _chateau_ on the horizon.

The peasants, misinterpreting the question, attempted to tell them that what their captors were gesticulating at was, in fact, called a 'castle'. Unfortunately, their gags prevented them from enunciating this, and their muffled words were misheard as 'cathal', and so the Kingdom of Cathal was born.

If you were to locate this place on a modern-day map, it would contain central London and go along the Thames, all the way to the North Sea. The castle at the kingdom's centre was surrounded by a cluster of villages. The river rushed between the peasants and royalty, and you might often see young children playing on both banks, albeit dressed very differently.

It would be best, I think, to begin this story on the shores of the River Thames, in June of the year 1302, where a young girl is sitting on the grass at the edge of the village-side bank. If you were to look at her now, you would see her watching the ongoing construction of what will be called 'London Bridge', after the capital city of Cathal. She is gazing at the weary workers while her hands nimbly fashion daisy chains, and watching as the men heave planks into the river, passing them to others, who stand knee-deep at the edge of the water and hammer at poles as the sun drifts below the horizon. The sweat and water running off the labourers glistens in the dying light. 

She holds her daisy chain up to the light, inspecting it. She frowns as several daisies come apart and fall to the ground. She glares at the flowers in her hands. They catch fire. She gasps and extinguishes the flames with her sleeve. Once more, her eyes follow the path of the setting sun.

As the shadows lengthen, the girl shivers and rises, pulling her shawl tightly around her shoulders. She wanders towards a large man wielding a hammer with his back to her and prods him with her pinkie. 

"May I ask you a question, sir?"

His head turns sharply towards her, and he flings down the hammer.

"Can't you see I'm busy?" he spits through clenched teeth.

The girl's body tenses, about to flee. "Sorry - I just wanted to ask... sorry, sir, I'll go." 

She wrings her hands and turned to leave.

"What did you want to ask?" The man's voice is softer.

"I like your bridge, sir, and I wanted to know if you're making it for the baby princess' christening. Is it so the guests can come in their carriages? I really want to see it, but I'm not invited. My mama says that anyone who wants to come should be allowed to, even though we're not rich. So is that what it's for? It looks like it might break if the guests eat too much - then they'd be too heavy."

"What's your name, child?"

"Hermione, sir. Hermione Granger."

"That's an... interesting name. Well, Miss Granger, we are building the bridge so that the lords and ladies in the castle can have bigger feasts, as it takes rather a long time to get all of the food across the river in a little rowboat. And for the christening guests too, of course. I've told you, there. Now run along home to your family."

The girl opens her mouth to retort, but a glance at the man's expression changes her mind and she bays him farewell. Her skirt brushes the grass as she wends her way home. 


	2. Living Softly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really recommend Modern History TV (on youtube) if you want to learn about medieval life. It's very entertaining and down-to-earth. Apparently, medieval peasants would eat mushy peas called 'peas pottage', a rather delightful name.
> 
> Everything belongs to the wonderful JK Rowling.

Ivy was growing on the roof of the witch's cottage. Vines framed the wooden door that squeaked feebly as gusts of wind blew through the gap under it. Inside, a woman was plaiting Hermione's brown hair. She tied the braid with a velvet ribbon and brushed invisible lint off the girl's coat. Then she turned her around so they were facing each other and started doing up the buttons on her coat.

"Hermione, darling, you must only pick the yellow mushrooms, the chanterelles. Will you remember that?"

"Yes, Mama."

"Now, darling, do you remember the rules of going outside?”

“Of course, Mama."

“Then please recite them to me.”

“Do not drink from any alien cup, carry candles and string. Speak not with strangers, lest they harm you. Take naught from Veela, lest they enchant you. Show naught to muggles, lest they douse you with water and burn you at stake. Always carry your knife in your sheath. Did I get them right?"

"Yes. Let's go." 

As they walk, I will tell you about the woman whom Hermione addressed as Mama. She walks like a queen. Her posture is not at all reminiscent of most hunchbacked fairy tale witches, for she was brought up to be part of the wizarding elite by her parents, Cygnus and Druella Black.

Her name is Andromeda Black.

If a muggle were to read this book, they might be surprised to learn that she could perform magic. Yes, magic. In those dark days, wizarding society was under constant threat from muggle 'witchhunts', an attempt at the genocide of magical beings. Now, due to the recent creation of the Ministry of Magic and International Statute of Secrecy, us wizards and witches are far safer. Unfortunately, I myself often have trouble apparating inconspicuously. Perhaps I shall send a complaint to my friend Robertina Twycross at the Department of Transportation. Nevertheless, I digress.

As the daughter of the most powerful family in Cathal, she could want for nothing. She dined on spices and salt, a luxurious rarity. She and her two sisters were attended at all times by nurses, governesses, and tutors. Never had she been denied service or obeisance from those around her. The only thing lacking in her life of splendour was affection, although she felt tantalising glimmers from her father when her mother was away, fraternising with other powerful witches.

Having grown up a desperately lonely child, she often felt guilty for isolating Hermione from the village children. She has her reasons, even if I do not presently reveal them to you. If it is any consolation, Hermione never had a hope of making friends there, for Andromeda was greatly feared. Sometimes people don’t fear danger. They fear secrecy. Despite Andromeda’s vital role in providing them with healing potions and helpful spells, they could not help be afraid of the witch.

Muggles are foolish. They believe that all witches are wicked, and that all princesses will live happily ever after. Perhaps that is the only source of their happiness, this blind faith in storytelling.

I will not trespass any longer on Andromeda’s history, for the details of it are hers to tell. All I will say is that the Black family fell from power. Having sired only daughters, they had no male heirs, and the power behind the throne fell to the two remaining powerhouses: the Malfoys and the Weasleys.

As for how Hermione came to be under Andromeda’s care... it is a common story. Hermione’s mother was deathly ill when she gave birth to her daughter. Desperate, her father consulted a witch, who herself desired a child of her own whom she could love dearly. This witch was Andromeda. She gave exchanged a potion for a wailing baby.

For the time being, that is all you need to know about the formidable Miss Andromeda Black, as they have reached the mossy section of the woods where the edible mushrooms grow.

"I can't see any, Mama." 

Andromeda put her hand on Hermione's back and lead her deeper into the mossy section of the forest. 

"Sometimes they're hiding under the moss. Kneel down here and try to dig up some with your fingers. Like this.” Andromeda dropped to her knees. She pulled off her gloves and put them in her pocket. Then she picked up a clump of moss and looked underneath it. “Oh well, nothing here. Better keep looking.”

"But Mama, couldn't you just use magic to get them?"

"No, darling. You must learn how to survive without magic, as you are not like me. I must teach you how to live a normal life."

"Actually, yesterday I was holding some flowers and –" She was cut off by her mama’s gasp as she held up a beautifully golden fungus.

"Oh! Got one! See that? That's the kind of mushroom we're looking for. Put it in the basket, and see if you can find some more for me. You know how delicious they are, so we want to collect lots. Now, what were you saying?"

"It was nothing, Mama."

Hermione felt something wet hit her cheek, and she raised her palm to brush it away. Rain began to patter lightly on the ground, rolling off the leaves in clouds of droplets, making Hermione's plaited hair go wispy.

Andromeda stood up and frowned at the sky. "Come on. Let's head back; I don't want you to catch a cold. It looks like I'll have to summon those mushrooms after all." Andromeda withdrew her want from a sheath around her waist and muttered a word under her breath. At once, a dozen yellow mushrooms flew into the basket and landed softly. She grasped Hermione's wrist and dragged her back through the woods and up the garden path into the dry safety of home. She locked and bolted the door.

"Mama, will you read to me before bed tonight?" Hermione hung up her coat on a wooden peg and bent down to remove her shoes.

"Of course, my darling,” said Andromeda, putting on an apron and placing her wand on the table. She tossed a few logs and twigs at the fireplace at the centre of the room. She picked up her wand again. "Incendio!" Newly born flames licked the wood. Then "Accio bucket. Aguamenti." A wooden bucket landed on the table with a plonk. She turned to Hermione.

"Darling, could you please wash your hands?"

As the mushrooms cooked over the fire, Andromeda used her wand to stitch up tears in Hermione's up old clothes. The rhythm of the rain pattering on the roof lulled her into a soothing sleep…

“Mama! Mama quick! The mushrooms!”

“Wha?” She murmured, nuzzling a pillow. “Aaaargh!” Her eyes flew open and she leapt to her feet. Her wand flew away from Hermione’s clothes and into Andromeda’s fist. “Hermione, get me two plates please. Can you reach the cupboard? Good. Thank you. Accio pan,” she finished, and doled out the food into bowls suspended in mid-air.

“Mama,” said Hermione, as they were eating at the table, “please may we go to the princess’ christening? I wish so much to see that ladies in their dresses. And I heard the castle has the biggest library in Cathal!”

Andromeda frowned at her food. She chased a mushroom around her plate before she answered.

“Upon another occasion, perhaps I might let you venture into the palace with the Queen’s permission. We have been acquainted for a long time, so I have no doubt that she would do me this favour. However, I fear tomorrow may not be a safe time to be in the castle.”

“Why, Mama?”

“My reasons are long and complicated. You, Hermione, are a very clever girl, but I do not want to share this burden with you before it is necessary. Now eat up, darling, before it gets cold.”

“What burden? Please tell me. You said I’m clever, so I think I could understand.”

“No. I hope the time that I must tell you will never come. Please don’t lick your plate, darling. We have bread if you’re still hungry.” _But we’re running out_ , _and I barely have any money left. What a pity that no-one can conjure food, or our lives would be faultless._

Later that evening, after she had read to Hermione and blown out the candle, Andromeda sat by the hearth downstairs and listened to her thoughts, each making a sound like a whistling wind as it blew across her mind.

Perhaps the christening could be an opportunity… For her to redeem herself. And to free both herself and Hermione from having to live in secrecy. In fear. Always wary of the possibility of being discovered by the people Andromeda feared most, who would do anything to destroy her and those she loved unconditionally.

Thunder crackled wickedly, filling the air with foreboding. Andromeda picked up her wand and walked up to the rain-splattered window.

A storm was brewing on the horizon, directly above the castle.


	3. Joyless Revelry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything belongs to lovely JK Rowling.

Andromeda rose before dawn on the morning of the royal christening. She poured a bucket of cold water over her head and started scrubbing away dirt. 

Once she’s scourgified away the filth beneath her fingernails, she scrabbled around in a drawer until she found a small iron key. 

There was a wardrobe pressed into the wall of her bedroom. Slowly, she turned the key in the lock. There was a satisfying click and the doors sprang open. 

Pearls glimmered, gowns rustled, feathers shone. Andromeda hung rubies from her ears and neck. She reached for satin slippers and selected a black silk dress with a dripping lace hem. She took off her nightgown and let the dress slip over her body.

She looked breathtaking. 

Andromeda loathed it. She could remember the last time these clothes had defiled her body; the memory left a bitter taste on her tongue.

Minutes later she was locking the door to the cottage. She marched through the forest, her bag swinging in her hand. 

The sun was hiding beneath a cloud of mist on this day for celebration. Andromeda tread lightly on the grass to avoid soaking her slippers in dew. Even now, she could hear early morning revellers on their way to the castle. Many freemen and serfs were already crowding around the bridge in hope of seeing the nobles’ carriages. They wouldn’t have to wait long. As she approached the bridge, she saw an ornamented wooden carriage shudder forward slowly. It was pulled by four black horses, feathery plumes flowing from their heads. On its side had been carved a wooden crest: a raven painted in black.

Death and damnation, thought Andromeda. Bellatrix was here already. Either her monstrous sister must be on her trail, or fate was exceedingly cruel.

She drew her wand and flicked it at her head, casting a disillusionment charm. Her pace quickened. She tried to walk past the carriage nonchalantly, for the charm was not the most effective method of concealment. However, it began to slow down, sending her heart into a fearful frenzy.

As it drew to a halt, Andromeda saw one of the velvet curtains twitch. Bellatrix peered out. She glanced briefly at the view, sneering at the newly constructed bridge. 

Her gaze paused on Andromeda. She froze, hardly daring to breathe. Bellatrix’s surly face was framed by thick black locks. Dark eyelids fell and rose drowsily, but underneath her eyes were calculating.

Then she turned away and the curtain fell back in place. The carriage moved out of sight. 

Andromeda, still invisible, strode across the bridge. The dagger in her bag clanked against her metal flask rhythmically. She quickly cast a charm to silence it and proceeded.

She had reached the main gate. The castle, impenetrable to muggles, held no resistance for a skilled witch. A few well-cast spells later she was standing within its stone walls.

There was something gloomy about the place. Greyness had settled on it like a blanket of fog. Walls as grey as a pigeon’s wing; armoured guards glittering like silver… even the sky did not partake in the celebrations, remaining resolutely colourless. The sun still sat snuggly below the horizon.

Andromeda envied its sleep. Yawns were threatening to overcome her, so she found an alcove and sat down. 

Just a little nap _,_ she thought dreamily. 

_No_. She slapped her cheeks gently. Another yawn escaped her, and she stood up. Most guests wouldn’t be arriving for another few hours. There was time to get herself organised.

She hoped an encounter with Bellatrix could be avoided. Although it appeared that she was merely making an early start at merry-making, Andromeda suspected Bellatrix would be up much more malicious deeds before the day was over.

But first she had to finish the potion. Andromeda kept a store of common ingredients in the cottage, and the majority of the potion was already stored in the flask inside her bag. However, it was lacking in a few rare key ingredients. One of which would require getting close to Bellatrix and her other sister, Narcissa, as well as her family. Andromeda thought the other ingredients might be found if she looked in the queen’s exotic creatures vault. 

Now, to find the queen of the castle on her daughter’s christening day. Not a simple task, but certainly an important one.

Andromeda set off.

The courtyard was bustling with activity. Servants scurried back and forth laden with brooms and banners, flowing with flowers and flour. 

She walked further, past the well in the middle of the courtyard and the two rose gardens on either side of it. The roses were wilting from the recent heat, although they were still wet from last night’s rain.

Andromeda found herself in front of another pair of heavy double doors, locked. 

“Alohomora,” she whispered, hoping nobody would notice the doors opening of their own accord. She slipped through and went into the Main Hall. 

Arched wooden beams held up the high ceiling. Sunlight was streaming in through giant glass windows, the stained glass creating colourful patterns on the floor. Again, the hall was full of servants and courtiers, with a few early guests lingering around the king, who was sitting in a wooden chair next to the throne, looking as intimidating and regal as a potato. His royal robes fit badly, accentuating his plump belly.

No sign of the queen. Or Bellatrix. 

Now, where would the royal chambers be? There were corridors leading away from the hall on all sides. One corridor was larger and more ornamented than the others, with portraits and windows. 

_That must be it._ Andromeda hurried along it until it split, like the top of the letter T. She glanced through the windows. This wall of the castle was on top of a cliff. A few gulls were swooping and squawking outside. The right corridor seemed endlessly long, whereas the left ended quickly with a small round staircase. _The tower._ She turned left.

At the top of the stairs she found an open door. It led to a large chamber with a candle chandelier, unlit. A woman was sitting in a chair by the window. She was brushing long blonde hair and cooing at a baby in the cot opposite her.

“Hello, Mirabelle.”

The woman shrieked and jumped up, looking around wildly.

Andromeda held her hands out calmingly. “Mirabelle, darling, don’t worry. It’s just me: Andromeda.”

“Dromeda! Where are you? I can’t see you!”

“Give me a second, darling.” She cast a Disillusionment counter-charm and smiled at the queen. “That’s better. Can you see me now?”

“Oh! It’s lovely to be with you again. It feels like it’s been years since we last talked.”

“It has.”

“Have you been having delightful fun while I slave away for my little baby? She screams all night, you know. Frankly, I’m exhausted. As are all the nursemaids, I’m sure. Do sit down,” she said.

“Thank you.” Andromeda conjured a chair and sat down daintily. “As for your question, I have been… otherwise engaged.”

“Doing what? Forgive me for this interrogation, I’m terribly curious. I haven’t seen my only friend in so long!” The queen said, smiling. She picked up her baby and brushed her fingers through its first strands of golden hair.

“I would tell you, darling, but I’m afraid we are rather pressed for time.” Andromeda leant in towards her friend and spoke in a hushed voice. “You know I could tell tales for hours about my magical misadventures, but today I am here to warn you. And to make a request.”

“Now my curiosity is indeed aroused. I hope it is nothing too dreadful that you are here to warn me about.” The queen’s eyes glimmered with warmth as she gazed at her child. “Would you like to hold her? I am going to name her Briar Rose. Edward and I think it’s a simply scrumptious name for a perfect daughter, don’t you agree?”

Andromeda accepted the baby and held it to her chest. She began to rock it gently. “Yes. It’s a beauteous name indeed. This girl will bear it with grace. And she, my darling friend, is why I am here. I have been led to believe that she is is great danger.”

“But – from whom?” The queen’s face looked drained of colour, and terror shone through her lashes.

“Did you invite my darling sisters and their family to Briar Rose’s christening?”

“But of course!” The queen gave a high pitched laugh. “Surely, surely they cannot be a threat to my daughter! They are good fairies, as are you!”

“How little you know of wizarding society, darling. I’m afraid your impression of them is rife with falsehoods.”

“Tell me. I demand – as your queen and friend – to know.” The air seemed to grow colder, and the queen’s back became ramrod strait, her frame tense.

“My sisters, Narcissa Malfoy and Bellatrix Black, are villains who desire to take the throne. I remember, even in my childhood, how my family longed to seize control of this kingdom. They will do anything to rule Cathal, even use their wicked magic in front of muggles, which I believe they intend to do today.”

The queen was silent. Her lips narrowed into a thin line and she frowned. “Muggles?”

“Non-magical people.”

“Tell me, dear friend,” the queen said, her tone chilly, “why I have not been warned of this danger before. This is my kingdom! I would give my life for it, my blood and bones. If they truly have dangerous magic, they could take over any moment. In fact, why have they not done so already? Surely it would be easy for them.”

“There is one obstacle in their path. Have you also invited the Weasley family today?”

“Yes. Oh! I think I understand. The Weasleys too have magic, and the Malfoys and Bellatrix are … what? Afraid of them?”

“The Weasleys want muggles to rule Cathal. They are … unusual in that respect, compared to most wizarding families.”

“You know, Andromeda, this thing – magic – it makes me so angry. I am powerless! If they choose to attack my husband … or my daughter! They might attack my daughter! Briar Rose! Dromeda, my friend, do something! Help me!”

“Mirabelle, darling, do not be afraid. Why do you think I’m here? I’m your best friend, as you said. Of course I wish no harm to come to your family. I have prepared a potion to vanquish the Malfoys and my sisters.”

“A potion! Are you sure it will work?”

“Yes – here, I will show it to you.” Andromeda opened her back and withdrew the flask. She held it away from herself and unscrewed it carefully. She placed the lid on the floor and sniffed. Her nose wrinkled.

“That’s it?”

“What were you expecting, flashes and bangs?”

“What will it do?”

“It will send them into a deep everlasting sleep. It is a very useful potion, for I must only put a single person’s hair into it, but it will affect everyone in their family. I will give take Bellatrix’s hair, as she is most vile. I saw her arrive early this morning in a black carriage. No doubt she is preparing to kill your daughter.”

“But what about you? You are her sister! Will it not harm you?”

Andromeda stayed silent, gazing out of the window. Eventually put her face in her hands, and mumbled something into her palm.

“Dromeda? Please tell me it won’t harm you,” the queen begged.

Andromeda lifted her head. “Not directly. As I am the spell’s caster, it will not send me to sleep.”

“That is wonderful, Andromeda. Then why do you look so… so – “

“Worn out? Well, there is a little catch with the potion. It will drain me. Of everything. My energy, vitality. My life.”

“You mean you will … you will die.”

“Yes. As soon as they fall asleep. I have enchanted the potion to send them to sleep in fifteen years, so that I may time to raise my daughter before I die. However, the spell will weaken them so that they cannot attack your family today.”

“Oh, Dromeda!” The queen embraced her. “I am so grateful! Wait.You have a daughter?”

“Adopted. But first I must complete the potion. I will need access to your rare ingredients.”

“Of course. I must also depart to welcome the guests. I will take care to avoid the Malfoys and your sisters until you arrive.”

The queen handed Andromeda a key and they embraced again. She picked up her baby and the two women walked out of the room and down the stairs together. The queen turned right at the ground floor.

Andromeda kept walking down the claustrophobic staircase into the cellars where the ingredients where stored. 

There was no natural light there, but there were a few candles on the walls, casting grotesque shadows. The lower Andromeda climbed, the colder and moister the air became, until she could see her breath condensing in the air.

There was a tiny room at the bottom. Andromeda put the queen’s key in the lock and opened the door, peering in. Pitch black darkness loomed back at her.

“Lumos.” Andromeda held her wand up to the shelves lining the walls. She inspected the dusty jars, reading each label carefully. _Hedgehog milk, no. Peacock heart. Bottled swan spit._ She moved on to the next section. _Snake’s tears. Perfect._ She opened the vial and poured it into her flask. Only two ingredients left. Elephant blood wasn’t difficult to locate, and she stirred it in quickly. 

Now she just had to find some of Bellatrix’s hair …

She started putting her flask in her bag, stuffing her lit wand under her arm. She buttoned the bag and swung it over her shoulder. 

The silence became less comfortable. Andromeda felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise. 

There was a sound. _Swish_. Like a wand being flourished. 

Andromeda dropped her bag and held out her wand in a tight fist. “Who’s there?”

A whisper. “Petrificus totalus..” Andromeda was frozen.

A woman strode into the light. Bellatrix was draped in black velvet, and held a brown, claw-like wand. She bared her teeth in a wolfish smirk.

“Andromeda. What an … unexpected surprise.”

Andromeda tried to reply, but her mouth was frozen. She strained against the curse, trying to point her wand at her assailant.

“This is a lovely reunion,” Bellatrix continued. “Narcissa will be so pleased to see you again. She hasn’t heard from you in so long; not since the little trouble we had over that muggle scum.” Bellatrix began to pace around Andromeda, inspecting her.

“As a matter of fact, it is not a coincidence that we met here. Would you believe that? I have a task for you.” She waved her wand. “Accio sleeping curse.” 

The bag split open and the potion flew into the woman’s hand.

_How in the devil’s name did you know about it?_ Andromeda tried to open her mouth to curse, but paralysis prevented her. 

“Dromeda, you didn’t forget, did you? Silly girl. _I am a legilimens._ That’s how I know. It was rather amusing how you thought a disillusionment charm would save you earlier. Do you really think I am that incompetent? _Really_?” 

The witch stopped pacing and stood nose-to-nose with Andromeda, sneering at her. 

“Fortune clearly favours me. My previous plan for taking the crown was so crude, so vulgar. You will be so helpful to me. You and your sleeping curse. Finite incantatem.” With a wave of her wand, the woman released Andromeda from the curse’s grip.

She flung out her wand. “Expelliarmus.”

“Protego. Sister, you will have to do better than that. You know I will win. My magic is superior. You are truly foolish, refusing to use dark magic. After all, power is clearly more useful than morals.”

“Bellatrix, you evil –”

Bellatrix smiled and whispered: “Imperio.”

Andromeda’s hatred and anger evaporated into pink mist, filling her with a comfortable calmness. Someone else was in control. This nice lady would tell her what to do. Everything would be alright. Now all she had to do was follow the lovely Bellatrix’s instructions.

“One day I will kill you.” She heard Bellatrix say. _It would be an honour to be killed by her. She is my master, and I will obey her._ “Oh, I remember the look on your face when I slaughtered that animal, your fiancee.” Bellatrix took Andromeda’s hand and held the littlest finger with her thumb and forefinger. “And on your wedding day.” She laughed maniacally, holding the finger gently.

She snapped it. Andromeda screamed. _That hurts! What a kindly woman, she is giving me the gift of pain._

Bellatrix continued. “How is darling Teddy getting on these days? Been to visit his grave recently?”

Suddenly the warm mist dispersed. “You bitch,” Andromeda hissed, putting her hands around Bellatrix’s neck and squeezing.

Bellatrix screamed and kicked out. Andromeda fell. 

“Crucio,” Bellatrix gasped, massaging her neck.

Andromeda could feel any control she had over her body slipping away. It felt like her fingernails were being ripped off. Her eyes were on fire. She convulsed and shuddered as bitter pain corroded her insides, making her heart thud quickly, as if each beat was her last. 

A voice started pounding in her head. Bellatrix. “Beg for mercy.”

“No!” Her mouth couldn’t form the word properly. She choked on her tongue.

“Beg, or I will torture you into insanity.” The voice sounded almost pleasant. It was terrifying.

“I will never – ” Andromeda gasped for breath, “ – never do you the honour of begging.”

“Then I’ll make you. Imperio.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would love to hear your thoughts!
> 
> xox Prospie


End file.
